Chance Encounters
by ExpendableVoice
Summary: Not everyone in Remnant gets a voice. Not everyone will meet everyone else. But what happens if pure chance changes that? A collection of short stories, where two randomly chosen characters interact.
1. Time (Dove and Sage)

Time.

 _Time was important to Dove Bronzewing. This didn't mean he rushed, or that he was particularly organized or anything. It just meant that he knew how precious time was._

When you think of Beacon Academy, what do you suppose comes to mind? The four most prestigious instructors in Vale? They were certainly experts in their fields, both as educators and as huntsmen.

How about the rising stars that were Team RWBY? The leader who was handpicked by the school's headmaster two years early... The Schnee Dust Company heiress... And the other two members had more than enough to stand with their peers.

 _How much time have they wasted? How much more has he wasted?_

You may also think of Team JNPR. That team's leader had a questionable start, but competent teammates soon fixed that. No less than the prestigious Pyrrha Nikos, training up an illustriously incompetent Arc to something far more.

Another group may be Team CFVY, the second year over-achievers. They've been in less news segments than Team RWBY, and less present on campus than Team JNPR, but the students of Beacon still know of the team that can take missions meant for veteran huntsmen. Their personality, style, and character are as striking as the last two teams.

 _How much time was left? Was there any at all?_

And finally, the last team that people think of when they hear Beacon Academy: Team CRDL. They're popular for a... different reason. Of course, it's their own fault. After all, they're the ones who chose to isolate themselves. The ones who ignored other people's peace, and ignored other people's presence in general. They acted without a care for anyone else. Because they didn't have the time to worry about that.

And Dove Bronzewing most certainly didn't have time either.

* * *

Who cares where this humble, below average huntsman came from? He was already written off the moment he decided to settle for something ordinary. He didn't go to a prestigious combat school like Signal or Waygate. No, he didn't have time to do anything but settle for a martial arts dojo, led by a retired huntsman.

He didn't have extraordinary grades; he was just an ordinary highschooler, who managed to not fail nor excel.

He didn't have a tragic backstory, or heroic relatives, or newsworthy friends; He had an overworked father, a stay-home mother. All perfectly ordinary in the grand scheme of things.

His weapon? A sword. There was no weaponsmith or huntsman family friend for him to learn from. He picked up tricks from the metalworking shop, who made blades the same way they made pipes and rebar.

Still, he applied for Beacon. And he got in. Passing the practical exam, meeting the requirements for the educational exam, Dove Bronzewing knew he was on borrowed time. He was no hero, nor did he possess anything special, so he had to make use of his time as best he could.

 _What a joke._

His inauguration into Beacon was hardly surprising. Ozpin was probably talking to everyone else in the room, but Dove knew he was one of the many who would be considered wasted potential. He didn't have time to worry about anything else.

 _They say time flies. Ozpin ensures you do to._

He was one of the ones who weren't prepared for the launch. And one of the ones who didn't have the benefit of an exceptional friend, unique semblance, or past experience. So, unlike his namesake, he fell.

 _There's no time to complain._

There really wasn't. It was initiation, and he first stumbled into a young named Sky Lark. Carefree, touchy, annoying, but Dove had no time to complain. So he didn't. They moved on, struggling against Beowolves while the better students rode around on Ursas.

 _He was he who was._

Cardin and Russel soon joined. They journeyed to the ruins. Their only resistance was an immature Ursa, barely enough to qualify as a minor. They suffered, cheering when they pushed it back. They also stopped cheering that day when they heard another team defeat an Ancient Nevermore and a giant Deathstalker.

 _The four of you retrieved the black bishop pieces...  
_  
The first and last day they were spoken to as proud huntsmen-in-training. The next teams were named, one lead by an Arc, the other led by a prodigy two years younger. Cardinal didn't bother staying in the auditorium.

They had their dorm. They had their classes. They didn't have time to play nice. They all barely made it, and they all vowed to get better. So they didn't bother trying to put the time an effort in to fake it.

 _Make time? You don't make it. You borrow it._

An insult among friends. An insult to strangers. Who cares what anyone else says? You laugh, because you need to laugh. Then, you need remember you borrowed time for that laugh. You can't waste any time on trying to placate people who would never talk to you anyways. He couldn't waste time trying see their point of view. They wouldn't see his, after all.

 _We're good friends with Jaune now. He's even offered to take care of our homework._

We were ordinary. We had to pass, work, strive and fail. Arc was not. He had luck, heritage, a Nikos. He relied on RWBY; they relied on themselves. They were ordinary. And ordinary people were not saints. They were anger, vengeful, jealous. And they were not wrong, because those were natural, ordinary feelings.

 _Ursa Major. Cardin. Jaune Arc._

We were the majority. The reason why an expert huntress had to accompany the class. Elder grimm were the most dangerous. We couldn't fight, not because of determination or willpower. We never had the time to prepare. Never had the chance to stand against it.

 _Team JNPR. Team RWBY._

They rose. We fell. We didn't have time to make up for our actions in the first week. We didn't have time to waste tolerating jeers or glares. We couldn't. We couldn't waste time in the gym; we settled for equipment in our dorm. We couldn't waste time training outside in the early morn; we used it to rest.

 _Our first call to the Headmaster's office._

What was the call about? Doesn't matter. The story already told you: There was exactly one time when he considered us proud huntsmen-in-training. Ozpin didn't look at us, he looked passed us.

* * *

The other schools had sent their teams to Vale. It was Beacon's time to practice and prepare for the Vytal festival. Under the watchful eyes of Glynda Goodwitch, aspirants would be sharpened to huntsmen and huntresses.

 _Team CRDL will be sparring against Pyrrha Nikos today._

Dove Bronzewing, as well as the rest of Team CRDL would be a whetstone to sharpen them. Disposable, while put on display. Under the watchful eyes of fellow students and people from abroad, just so they could show off how much better Pyrrha Nikos was.

 _They performed as intended._

And in all that time spent, burned, borrowed and wasted, that was all they amounted to. A factoid for the real huntsmen teams. They were a joke. Team CRDL seethed, shrugged, stood, and pouted. In that order.

Dove Bronzewing stood silent, for that was all he could do. All he had ever done. All he would ever continue to do.

His closed eyes wandered. Many people cheered for Pyrrha. Many people cheered for Beacon. Many people enjoyed the fight.  
None for CRDL, of course, but that's because they were strangers. CRDL were strangers to the world, and vice versa. There was no time for anything else.

 _Class dismissed. People dispersed._

The thing about the ordinary, is that everything is ordinary until pure, random chance changes it. Then, it stops being ordinary. And if your chance was good, if you bided your time, and if the stars shined on you, it might even reach extraordinary.

This is a tale of CRDL, of Dove Bronzewing, so that doesn't happen. That can't happen, for the extraordinary are RWBY and JNPR and CFVY. And the teams from abroad.

And yet, seeing a certain silent duo from an extraordinary team was enough for chance to change the ordinary.

 _They didn't speak. They didn't acknowledge the world. They were their own team._

Sun and Neptune socialized. Scarlet and Sage did not. Dove Bronzewing saw both, and had intended to ignore both. Yet, he noticed eyes on him. No, probably just on his team. His own squinted eyes peered back. There stood Sage Ayana. Like everyone else, he said nothing to Team CRDL.

 _We didn't speak. We didn't acknowledge the world. We were our own team._

And yet, his actions were the same as they had been when Team CRDL. He looked. At them. Not passed them. Not at what they've done, where they've come from, or who they were.

 _Dove barely tried to remember the transfers from abroad. Yet, one name stuck out to him. He didn't know why._

And all Sage Ayana did was raise an eyebrow. Again.

 _It wasn't because of what they did. It wasn't because of what happened to them._

He asked an unspoken question. A completely empty question, that demanded no answer. And then he walked away, leaving the emptiness behind for CRDL to fill in the blanks.

 _It was a team of huntsmen, who saw them standing there. Watching their own team. Their own Team CRDL, who were huntsmen as well._

Dove was not well versed. He didn't know nor care what the name Sage Ayana meant. That wasn't his problem, and he didn't care about strangers. But now, the empty question was his problem. It was their problem.

 _So much time was burned away. So much more to be borrowed and wasted._

What was the question? Of course, the answer was Time. Time was important to Dove Bronzewing. To Russel Thrush, Sky Lark and Cardin Winchester. So what was the question?

 _What had been spent. Why had it been borrowed. How was it wasted?_

Was it wasted? Did they just borrow? Doesn't matter now, that was in the past, and for someone who cared about time, he would simply have to consider the future. Even if there wasn't enough time.

 _So it was time to make time. An awkward sentence for an awkward thought._

They were still not extraordinary. They would no doubt lose in the tournament. They would probably hurt all over in the weeks leading up to and following the festival.

But they didn't care. It was their time. They weren't extraordinary, but chance let them be more than ordinary.


	2. Smile (Pyrrha and Neon)

Pyrrha smiled.

It was a few days before the Vytal festival was actually supposed to start, but the entire city took on a festive mood. Beacon Academy would be the ones hosting the official event, with an entire fairground being set up on school grounds, but this didn't stop the atmosphere from reaching the rest of Vale. The city itself had banners and flags posted everywhere, with storefronts posting decorative posters of the event. The streets were filled with people, each chatting or moving about at their own pace. She could hear voices from a nearby cafe, chatting about all sorts of things, from people and places from the other kingdoms, to the young hopefuls who were participating in tournament itself.

While she could never match enthusiasm that some of the people here showed, Pyrrha Nikos enjoyed the festive mood all the same. It was a shame that other members of Team JNPR were indisposed. Classes were put on hold for the days leading up to the festival, so they had planned to visit the city together. Unfortunately, they stumbled on Miss Goodwitch, who had _recommended_ that Jaune and Nora use the time to catch up on their studies. The fact that Miss Goodwitch had recommended herself as a tutor made it detention in all but name, really, but the two still agreed to it.

So, instead, it was just her walking through the city. She was accompanied by the remaining member of Team JNPR earlier, but Ren was quickly recalled when Nora decided she was bored with the study session, and left for a snack break. Pyrrha couldn't help wonder if they would be alright, but pushed that thought aside. She knew things would be okay. Perhaps she should pick up a souvenir for them or something.

Walking alone meant that the huntress-in-training turned a few heads. After all, she was Pyrrha Nikos, and her name was familiar to the public eye. She could see people moving to give her space, strangers parting on the sidewalk as she passed by. There were street stalls set up that sold various trinkets, and their vendors would be extra polite whenever the woman turned her gaze their way. Sometimes, a child would approach her asking for an autograph, and she would readily comply, polite and friendly as she filled the request.

That was how the day went for Miss Pyrrha Nikos, and it's as simple as th-

"And finally, rounding off this week's top ten, we have a little student project of all things." Pyrrha hadn't paid much attention, but she found herself in the city center. Looking up, she saw a massive holodisplay, tuned to some entertainment channel. Right now, it showed off a man with a confident smirk and a sharp suit, sporting red shades and the largest pair of headphones she had ever seen. And was that a bear mascot head in the background? "Coming all the way from Altas, this last song is a jazz rendition of a song I personally love and hate. Let's all have a listen to 'I Burn', courtesy of the huntsmen kids from Team FNKI."

Pyrrha never explored the city much, so she didn't expect public music broadcasts in the city center. It was ... enjoyable, and for a moment, she forgot about the hustle and bustle of Vale. She took a seat at a nearby bench, content to just watch. She ignored the space that people gave her, and tried not to react as people began taking pictures, putting on a polite image as she tried to give a courteous wave.

"YES! I KNEW WE'D MAKE IT!" The entire crowd, Pyrrha included, paused in confusion as they turned to the source of the noise. Standing there was a faunus girl with a very... vibrant choice of attire. She wore a massive grin, plain as day, humming half to herself as she cheered into her Scroll. Of course, this attracted the attention of everyone in the plaza. The crowds were confused for a bit, before recognition kicked in.

"... That's Neon Katt!" And just like that, a second group formed around the teenager, rivaling Pyrrha's own crowd. The huntress-in-training was a bit worried for the girl, since she knew how oppressive the public could be at times. Honestly, she was glad that her teammates viewed her as equals, and that gave her the strength to endure the public eye. That worried her, since Pyrrha wasn't sure whether the girl named Neon had the same resolve. Would she be able to endure as well? The huntress stole a glance.

No. She couldn't endure it.

Or rather, Neon _didn't_ endure it. She accepted it. It was surprising, but Pyrrha couldn't believe what she saw. The same judging eyes of the public that critiqued her fell on Neon, and the happy little faunus met it with a grin that rivaled Nora's. The same grin that Nora gave Ren, Neon gave to everyone around her. She was a cheerful little idol that happily answered questions as though the crowd of fans and reporters were old friends.

She didn't know why, but Pyrrha found herself stunned silent. Where she tried to push away her public image, Neon embraced it. Those cheerful eyes sunk into the crowd, looking at everyone, smiling at everyone, before her eyes finally found a surprise. Bright green eyes met confused green eyes.

"Hey, I know you! You're Pyrrha Nikos, right? You're on the box of the best cereal ever!"

"Uhm... Yes. I'm sorry, but I don't believe we've met. Who are you?"

One tried to observe social norms and manners, and the other was Neon.

"Oh, don't worry about it! We never had a chance to talk much, did we? I'm Neon Katt, from Team FNKI!" It was a loud declaration that gathered more people into the crowd. She noticed that, and beamed at the newcomers. Pyrrha waved, trying to put on her friendliest expression.

"Hey, no need to get worked up. Lighten up!"

That was a first. Pyrrha's expression broke, turning into slight confusion as she turned towards Neon. "Pardon? I'm sorry, I don't quite know what you mean." And it was true. Pyrrha simply did as she always did, and couldn't recognize the face that Neon wore as she spoke those words.

"I said you don't need to be so serious about it! Just give them a smile or something!" Her tone was so chipper. It was a familiar sensation. An earnest one. And yet, Pyrrha didn't know what she meant. That's what she was doing, wasn't it?

"I don't quite understand. Didn't I?" Confusion was on the little champion's face, as she gave a questioning gaze to the little idol.

"... Ooooh. I think I get it. Nevermind then!" And just like that, she dropped it. "So anyways, whatcha doin' out here? Don't you need to prepare for the tournament thing?"

"Yes... I was just out here picking up some souvenirs for my team. We had planned to take a break, but something came up, and it's just little old me out here." Pyrrha's expression softened when she spoke about her teammates, and she missed the knowing smirk that appeared on Neon's face.

"So thaaat's how it is! Well, if you're lonely, why not go back early?" She closed her eyes, face beaming as Neon tried to nod sagely. Of course, she failed, but she didn't seem bothered by this at all as she began to turn around to face the crowd. "I'll just ask these guys to shuffle off for now, since they're bothering you!"

"No! No, you don't need to worry about it. I'm grateful for them!" Pyrrha's voice sounded out quicker than she anticipated, arm reaching to try and halt the girl. "They're not bothering me at all. I understand why they're here."

Neon chuckled a bit at that, turning around to face the redhead once more. Her voice was lower this time, not enough to reach the crowd. "... But you still can't smile at them, can you?" It wasn't mocking question, nor was it a malicious accusation. It was merely a fact, ending off with a cheerful inflection of the voice. That same voice suddenly spoke out again, catching the attention of the crowd as well as the confused champion. "C'mon Pyrrha! If you're busy with something else, just let them know! I've got enough Katt for all of them!"

And, before anyone else understood what happened, the girl pressed a button on her Scroll. Music started flaring from the device, far louder that anyone expected. With a snap of her... glowstick? Anyways, with a snap of that, Neon Katt hopped onto the bench, turning the seat into a makeshift stage, giving everyone present a cheerful grin.

No one, least of all Pyrrha, was sure what was going on, but even she was enamoured as she watched the little idol begin her dance. It was a slow gesture at first, following the flow of the music. And yet, it grew brighter with every passing note, matched by the girl on the stage. Each time Neon Katt shifted her body, a trail of rainbow light was left behind, glimmering in the air as she hummed, danced, and sung. Her eyes met with everyone in the crowd, boring into them as the idol met her audience. And then, Katt's eyes fell on a certain confused redhead.

Pyrrha Nikos was wrong about one thing. The little champion was the only one who tried to push away her "public image". Neon Katt didn't need to worry about anything as trivial as that. After all, the little idol didn't even _have_ a public image. What stood there on that awkward stage, singing and dancing and invigorating the crowd _was_ her.

So maybe she could try that too. No, not anything extreme like a spontaneous concert or suddenly taking up a musical career or anything. Pyrrha shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Yes, let's just take it one step at a time.

Turning away from the crowd, the little teenager named Pyrrha left, making her way back to Beacon, where her friends were. Rather than the public who crowded around the Mistral champion, her thoughts drifted onto Team JNPR. Really, that's all she needed to think about for now, as the girl boarded a shuttle back to Beacon.

Today, she'd stop worrying about her public image.

And as she left the city behind her, Pyrrha Nikos smiled.

A/N: Yeah, I tried to figure out what sort of situation would push the two together. Unfortunately, I feel like my train of thoughts jumbled apart halfway through the ride. Any critique would be appreciated, since I feel like I dropped the ball near the end.


	3. Competitive Spirit (Arslan and Neo)

The Vytal festival attracted all kinds of people. Tourists, merchants, thrill seekers, intellectuals... The list goes on and on. After all, this is a festival to celebrate peace between the Kingdoms. All sorts of stalls were open, all sorts of shops sold all sorts of items, and there was something for everyone.

The question was, did the festival have something for Arslan Altan?

The leader of Team ABRN, Arslan was a quiet sort, more for actions than words. Conversation wasn't really her forte, and yet, she was the one put in charge of three others who very much liked to run their mouths. Not that she didn't dislike their enthusiasm, but there were times when the young woman preferred peace and quiet to her team's antics. But still, they were good people, and even if she didn't say much, the time they spent together meant they were able to read her like an open book.

It was a skill that went both ways, of course.

Which was why she was touring the festival today. Team ABRN had just lost a match to Team RWBY, and her rowdy teammates were depressingly quiet. Even she was disappointed with her performance, but there was no use brooding over it. For now, her team could use some encouragement, so let's hope the stalls have something useful for sale.

The first thing she noticed was that the plaza was filled with more people than ever. Looks like a holopanel was broadcasting music... Is that Team FNKI from Atlas? The song name was something called Neon Rainbow, but that didn't matter too much. What was important was that it immediately gave Arslan an idea for Reese. Sure, she was cocky at times, but she was a good kid, and always took the time to listen to Arslan whenever she lectured her. ABRN's team leader nodded to herself as she finalized the idea for Resse's gift, and immediately made her way to one of the nearby shops.

Things were as loud inside as they were outside, but Arslan wasn't too bothered by it. Since she already had the gift in mind, she just made her way to the entertainment section of the store, wasting no time browsing or searching. It was a quick journey, and surprisingly, her irregular outfit didn't attract any stares this time around. Maybe they were used to seeing tournament participants out and about. Whatever the case, she retrieved a set of headphones and made her way to the cashier.

"Oh, you're one of the ones who fought earlier today, weren't you?"

Someone noticed her. And reminded her of the fight. She turned her eyes to the cashier, still silent as she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. It was an unspoken question, but she had plenty of practice asking silent questions with her team. It seemed like the man behind the register was just curious, so she put on a polite smile and nodded, simply handing him the headphones.

"Yes, I saw that fight. You all fought so well, so don't get discouraged, okay?"

Would that be considered a white lie? After all, she knew her team didn't fight that well... Then again, they still held out, so she knew they weren't bad, either. But no, she could read body language just as fluidly as spoken language, and knew the man was sincere. She repaid that gesture in kind, her smile growing just a bit wider as she bowed to him. Doesn't matter if her team did or didn't fight well enough; since she's their leader, she'll be there to make sure they fight better next time. Though it did frustrate her just a _bit_.

Stepping out onto the street, she began looking around for more inspiration. Was there anything suitable for the rest of her team? Bolin was the hardest to shop for, so she'll settle that for last. Hmm... What about Nadir? He was more soft-spoken than the rest of the group. Well, except for her, but that's just in the literal sense. Still, nothing seemed to catch her attention, and she absently began wandering the main plaza. Surely, something woul-

"Come on down! Try your aim, try your luck! Compete against four others to see who can take down the most Grimm for a fabulous prize!"

Well, that was convenient. The city really was like a festival; it even had cheesy carnival games for tourists. She should've brought the entire team along, too. The way those grimm targets looked would've already done half the job of cheering them up. And what's this? A prize that reminded her of Nadir? Arslan drew closer, curious to see exactly how this little shooting contest would work.

* * *

Neo was bored. Normally, at this hour, she'd be off eating ice cream, stealing some information, pranking Roman or threatening... someone. Junior maybe? Oh, or just sleeping in. However, she could do none of those things, as she had to tag along with Cinder's little group of kids, now that Roman's playing bait. Or had been double-crossed. Or had decided to take a vacation. Whatever it was he was doing in captivity.

The green-eyed girl in black just shrugged. She was as in the dark as her imprisoned associate, and it was no secret that Cinder intended to keep it that way. She was never invited to the meetings those three had, and while she could spy on them, that was pretty boring. So, to pretend that she was keeping things fair, she'd just go do whatever she wanted. This little mindset brings us to why Neo was walking alone in the city, while Cinder and her minions were holed up in a room somewhere.

Still... that didn't change the fact that she was bored out of her mind.

At least the colours of the festival were bright, vibrant, and included copious amounts of pink. The girl gave an approving nod at that thought, before her expression turned back into one of subdued annoyance. Maybe she'll try a new kind of ice cream, since she was playing the part of a brand new girl. She looked like... Chocolate chip mint? Close enough.

Now content with a goal, Neo's face had a playful grin, happily skipping to the nearest ice cream vendor to use some of her "allowance". Well, technically, it used to be Mercury's, but it's hers now. She gave a deceptively friendly smile to the silly old man in the ice cream stall, pointing first to a delicious wafer bowl, then to her alter ego's favourite food. While the shop owner found her silence a bit odd, he complied all the same, scooping out a generous helping to the girl before giving Neo a small smile of his own.

It'd be a shame that he'd be dead soon.

Oh well! Neo quickly used some of Mercury's lunch money to pay for the ice cream. Sure, she could just take some, but she had to _behave_. Which was boring, but that little sense of discomfort was quickly remedied by ice cr-

...wat.

this is disgusting what is this.

That's official. This disguise is dumb. Neo quickly tossed out the travesty that tried to call itself ice cream, before letting out an exhausted not-sigh. Maybe she should just head back and accidentally misplace one of her teammate's Scrolls. Today was shaping up to be a very dull day, and the little girl was almost set on heading back to Beacon when a new voice tore through the air.

"Come on down! Try your aim, try your luck! Compete against four others to see who can take down the most Grimm for a fabulous prize!"

And then she was intrigued. To think, there were people who would store grimm for entertainment here, just so they could be targets and potentially get released! It reminded Neo of a story Roman had told her, where he met some guy who had planned to do just that. Driven by curiosity, the girl quickly skipped to the stall in question, only to be met with more disappointment when she saw the "grimm" were cardboard targets. Her face instantly went from interest back to boredom yet again, before twisting into an amused chuckle when she saw one of the prizes: A teddybear with pink hair and a fancy little suit. There was even a tiny top hat to finish it off.

It reminded her of Roman, really. He never appreciated pink, and yet, was always so vain about his image. This would be the perfect way to annoy him while he's locked up. With renewed determination, Neo used up more of her teammate's money to sign herself up for the event, an action that used one coin and no words, before quickly taking one of the air rifles. With a satisfied spring in her step, Neo settled down beside a quiet-looking girl, giving her a teasing look.

Neo was met with a suspicious look, though she could tell her competitor had more confusion than anything else. How cute.

The girl silently chuckled, bringing one hand up as though to stifle her mute laughs, her eyes locked on the white-haired girl beside her. This elected another response, so Neo tried more faces. She was here to burn some time, after all, so why not have some fun doing just that? Unfortunately, this didn't last, as one final contestant had stepped up, lining up with the others in front of the stall. It was time to begin.

Flashing one last expression to the other girl beside her, Neo brought her weapon up, and turned her attention back to the cardboard grimm.

* * *

Her instinct was rarely wrong, so Arslan flinched a bit at the sudden appearance of the gothic girl in black pigtails. She had kept her eyes on the newcomer when she first approached, casually taking one of the air rifles without a second though. However, the girl noticed Arslan's gaze, and ABRN's leader soon found green eyes locked onto her, appraising her the same way she was apprais-

No.

Maybe appraisal was in the newcomer's eyes for a moment, but Arslan could _tell_ she was being mocked now. The half-arched smirk, the raised eyebrow, the lack of tension in the other girl's face meant she was amused with something. So, obviously, Team ABRN's fearless leader returned the gesture in kind, tilting her head back as she gave a look of dismissal to the pigtailed goth girl.

This was met with muted laughter, and Arslan retaliated with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. There was a mocking pout, which was met with a overtly stern shake of a head. Indifferent scowl met dramatic sigh. Condescending pseudo-chuckles met with a middle finger and a exaggerated grin.

It was an abnormal exchange, as well as a disarming one. Yet, the final competitor had been appeared, so it was time to shoot some targets. Just before Arslan turned away, her "conversation" partner gave one last expression.

A competitive grin.

Of course, Arslan returned it.

Both girls turned to face the targets before them, each bringing up their air rifles as they waited for the cardboard grim to appear. Neither considered anyone else, and even casual observers could tell that this 5-man competition was merely a shooting contest between two girls. One took a discipline stance, while the other far too lax for the event, but both wore a smile.

Maybe it had been a good idea to go out into the city after all. This little event certainly took Arslan's mind off of the tournament, and she was more than ready to show this little girl who was better. She almost didn't care if she won the little pink-haired bear for Nadir or not; another member of Team ABRN would end up happy all the same.

The stall owner's voice finally sounded out.

"Ready... Go!"


	4. Again (Nebula and Roy)

"... And you guys didn't do too bad either."

It was a reassuring tone, one that was filled with empathy and understanding, as Nebula Violette spoke to the two teams of Vacuo. Team BRNZ and Team NDGO were the ones chosen to represent the illustrious Shade Academy, and while they were unable to advanced to the doubles round, they had already proven themselves by qualifying for the Vytal Festival tournament in the first place. With the same soft tone, the team leader of NDGO turned to address Team BRNZ proper. "I didn't think you guys had it in you to lose gracefully with a skit."

And she said that with a smile.

This, of course, earned an indignant "What?!" from Team BRNZ's leader, Brawnz Ni. It was no secret that the leaders of NDGO and BRNZ were very competitive with one another. The students of Shade still haven't figured out whether it's friendly rivalries or unbridled hate, but they've learned to live with it. And, as it turns out, so have the students in Beacon. Since the first day of their arrival, the two team leaders were very... themselves, for lack of a better word.

"It's not like you did any better! All you did was stand around in a puddle while you waited for them to finish you off!" BRNZ's leader shot back, meeting Nebula's smile with a wry smirk of his own. Of course he had watched the battle between NDGO and SSSN, so it's not like he didn't have a few things to say in return. Brawnz chuckled, turning back to his team as tried to pull the rest of them into the argument. "Isn't that right?"

For the most part, Team BRNZ just shrugged. Nolan Porfirio laughed half-heartedly at his leader's jab, obviously thinking of something else. May Zedong had long since ignored the little shouting match between the two leaders, having turned her attention to her rifle instead. And finally, the last member of Team BRNZ, Roy Stallion, was... Not even in the room. He must've left right before Nebula and Brawnz started their little spat. Either way, no one was really paying attention to the man.

"Well, you're not half bad at standing around doing nothing yourself, Brawnz." Nebula let out a light giggle of her own, enjoying the look of disbelief on the other leader's face. "Still, you all look _quite_ busy, so I'll just leave you three to your devices. See ya. C'mon girls, let's go unwind or something."

And with that, she left, with the rest of Team NDGO following close behind.

* * *

"Good show, my boy! I dare say you're as energetic as I was back when I was your age!" The voice of Professor Peter Port echoed out as he stood at the edge of the arena. He was currently in one of Beacon's many training rooms, overseeing one of the huntsman from abroad who had arrived for the Vytal Festival. It was a shame that his team had ended off so early, and he was certainly surprised when the young man in question had approached him after the day's events. He gave an approving tweak of his mustache as he watched the huntsman-in-training dodge out of the way of the training dummy's attack.

Calling it a training dummy would be a bit of an understatement, since Port took it upon himself to help the poor boy. So, at this very moment, Roy Stallion was in the middle of a fist fight with an Alpha Beowolf.

Not that the young man had any complaints. Or concerns. Or much of anything, really. At the moment, he just wanted to relieve some stress, and the fact that he didn't have to sneak out to find some outlet helped. Roy shifted his body to the side, mitigating most of a violent swing as he spun around, returning the Beowolf's attack with his own, his bladed braces crashing against the monster's chest. The grimm flinched, bearing the brunt of the attack before rushing forward with claws outstretched.

This little song and dance continued on, with man and beast trading blows. Roy spent more effort throwing his blades and fist at the Beowolf than he did on avoiding, his strikes knocking the monster off balance. Sure, the man's form suffered, but he didn't care, gritting his teeth as he brought another heavy swing against the Beowolf's faceplate. The grimm stumbled with this blow, and it was enough for Roy to launch his blades forward once more, tearing at the Grimm's neck and ending its life.

As he watched the corpse topple over, Roy let out a frustrated growl, still feeling some pent up aggression as he turned back to the teacher overseeing him. "Again."

"Calm down, Roy." Rather than Port, a certain team leader answered. The brawler from BRNZ turned around to the source of the voice, only to let out a tired sigh as he watched Nebula Violette enter the room. Why was she here? "Don't you think you've had enough for now?"

"No." Was Roy's simple response.

"In that case... Hey professor! You don't mind if we have a little spar, do-" She turned to face Port, who was in the middle of pulling out another caged grimm. Of course, not privy to the eccentricities of Beacon professors, the leader of Team NDGO could only stare in confusion. ".. What's that?"

"Oh, just the next part of Mr. Stallion's little workout regime. Perhaps you'd like to join in?" He gave the massive cage a reassuring smack, and the sound of... something echoed out from within. "I'm sure this little critter would be happy to help you both with your... frustrations."

Nebula smirked, drawing her weapon as she slipped into the arena, standing behind Roy. She loaded a bolt into her crossbow, ready for everything as her eyes fell on the cage. "Why not?"

"And you, Mr. Stallion?"

Roy took a hold of one of his sawblades, inspecting the weapon for a few moments before slipping it back into his bracers. He stretched arms, his smirk matching Nebula's as he finally took a stance of his own. "Sure. Let's do this."

At those words, Port nodded, taking out his weapon. With one swing, he broke the lock of the cage, his mustache smiling ominously as the cage door fell.

A roar sounded out, and the two hopefuls of Vacuo saw themselves face to face with a Deathstalker.

* * *

"Ugh..." A tired groan sounded out from the first casualty, as a bruised and battered Roy tried to pull himself out of the arena wall. Surprising absolutely no one, his weapons weren't as effective against the grimm as he would've liked.

"Mmmn..." Another voice, this one apparently agreeing with the first, though it was hard to tell. Rather than the wall, Nebula found herself crumpled over on the arena floor, trying and failing to pull herself up. Her crossbow bolts had a similar effect on the grimm as Roy's blades, and neither of them were really prepared for a Deathstalker.

Because, you know, who in the right mind would be?

"And there we go!" The jovial voice of a certain professor sounded out, giving a satisfied nod as he kicked the Deathstalker back into its cage. Neither student would ever know how Port managed to bring such a dangerous monster into academy grounds, but they were about to find out why. After pushing the captured grimm back to the... corner... Peter Port casually sauntered to the center of the arena, his gaze slowly alternating between the two huntsmen-in-training.

"Now then... Are you two feeling more clear headed?" His eyebrow gave an inquisitive wiggle as he watched the two crawl to their feet. "No doubt, I understand your frustrations with the tournament, but there's no reason for either of you two to feel frustrated over the outcome. Both of you performed admirably. In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret. You see, back when I first tried to join a tournament all those years ago..."

Roy and Nebula had finally made their way back to the center of the arena, mostly ignoring the grandiose tales that the teacher before them was spewing out. Instead, their attention turned to each other.

Covered from head to toe in scratches, his green tunic now torn and tattered, Roy couldn't help but chuckle. Sure, he was in bad shape, and his arm hurt way more than he expected, but he looked no worse than Team NDGO's leader. For her part, Nebula reacted the same, as she saw how battered Roy was. Sure, she couldn't see how frayed her hair was frayed, but she could feel the bits of debris in it. Her overcoat had a huge tear to the side, and one of her gloves was ripped to shreds. Both students had just tangled with something far above themselves, and it showed.

Hearing their chuckles, Port stopped his rambling, turning towards them as he gave the two a curious look. They certainly seemed better, now that they had worked out whatever frustrations they had in their system. "Well? Is there something you two would like to add?"

""Again."" Both students smirked, taking their stances once more.

At those words, Port chuckled. "As you wish." He took out his weapon once more, the axe/blunderbuss hybrid gripped firmly in his hand.

There was no grimm this time.


	5. Hmm (Perry and Roman)

Roman Torchwick considered himself a professional.

It was more than vanity, of course; Roman was quite the expert criminal. Excellent communication skills, extensive practical knowledge, and the aesthetics required to maintain the image of a crime lord were all part of his skill set. Sure, there was always value in being able to manage minions, break into anything that's locked, or form a network of contacts in a single week, but Roman prided himself on mastering the fundamentals of his line of work. And yet, despite his experience, he was fundamentally unable to understand his latest underling.

"You know something, Perry?"

"Hmm?"

Roman took a long drag of his cigar, savouring the taste as he leaned back into his chair, tilting his head to one side as he calmly regarded his White Fang assistant. This man was one of the few things that the crime lord was not able to fully understand. The faunus was indistinguishable from all the other mongrels, except for the fact that he always wore a pair of glasses over his signature mask. This little eccentricity was what piqued Roman's curiosity.

"You're not like the rest of those animals. You've got something... unique to you. Like an endangered species."

"... Hmm." The faunus responded by bringing his hand up to Roman, raising a single finger.

And this was why Roman was interested in the Faunus. Despite the circumstances, Perry stayed _Perry_. The first underling to actually seem interesting in some manner. Sure, there was that one guy from Junior's gang who ended up being a music radio host somehow... but he was no Perry. Really, it was a mystery, and given how dull managing the White Fang was, Roman would take entertainment where he could get it.

"Now, the million lien question is, what makes you _you_? Is it these glasses?"

At those words, Roman casually brought his hand over, plucking them off of his underling as he brought them close. "You were wearing them during that little pet show rally, too. Wonder if there's something to them..." The crime lord squinted his eyes, examining it under the light, then the darkness, trying to find _something_. However, his scrutiny revealed them to be nothing more than a pair of round-frame glasses, so he casually tossed them over his shoulder. With a non-committal shrug, the crime boss turned back to his lackey.

"Guess no-... Oh, you son of a bitch."

"Hmm." His lackey held the exact same expression as always, standing at attention. And plastered on his mask was another pair of glasses, identical to the one Roman had swiped a few moments before.

And, of course, he was still flipping off Roman.

* * *

Perry's superior was an eccentric one; there wasn't a day where Roman wouldn't try something to alleviate his boredom, whether it was yelling at the recruits, antagonizing the leiutenants, or simply offloading his work on someone else. While the faunus didn't know why the crime boss was in charge of this cell, he also didn't care, as both of them had a job to do, and both of them ultimately complete their duties. With that same mindset that, Perry entered Roman's office, a pile of papers in his hands.

"...Hmm?"

True to Roman being Roman, today was a day like any other, and the faunus only gave a single inquisitive glance as he approached his superior's desk. Seated on Torchwick's chair was not the criminal, but a little girl of unknown origin. She had a carefree expression, mutely humming to herself to some silent rhythm, before she noticed the faunus's approach.

"...?"  
"Hmm."

And that was that. Perry took a look around the room, half wondering if Roman had wandered off somewhere, only to find the suited swindler lazily laying down on the couch. The White Fang operative took note of that, then turned to face the girl once more, her curious expression in contrast to Perry's masked face. Without ceremony, the faunus set today's paperwork down on the desk.

Roman, on the other hand, was enjoying another expensive cigar at the expense of his colleagues. His bowler hat covered much of his face, exposing only a single eye as he looked up from his couch. "Hey Perry. Don't mind me, just taking my union mandated break. Neo's covering for me. Oh, but you're still on the clock. You mongrels haven't finished fighting for your civil rights yet, right?"

"...Hmm."

"Yeah, just give her the report or something." Not that Roman expected him to be able to. The midget was annoying to deal with on a good day, and he doubted some random White Fang mutt was capable of managing her. Even if it was Perry. "Or drop by later, when I can be bothered getting up."

That's when he expected to hear footsteps leaving the room. Instead, Roman heard the shuffling of papers, and curiosity took the better of him. Slowly rising from his couch, he fixed his hat, his gaze shifting to the sight of Perry and Neo staring at one another.

"..."  
"Hmm."

"Hmm?"

"Hmm."

And just like that, Perry turned around, finally leaving the room. At least, he was going to, until he was stopped by Neo's... silence. Or something.

"...Hmm?"

"Hmm."

Now he left. Roman had a look of confusion on his face, trying to piece together what just happened. Had Perry really...? Oh, wait, there's Neo grinning like Neo again. She probably was just messing with him. The crime boss chuckled, rising to his feet as he made his way to the desk. "Alright shorty, enough fooling around. Guess I'd better-"

"Hmm." Torchwick was interrupted by the return of a familiar faunus. This same faunus was holding a wafer bowl filled with Neo's favourite ice cream. How did the little mongrel know? Did he really...

Roman felt his eye twitch as he watched the little ice cream girl take her ice cream, a content expression on her face as she skipped off. Slowly, the criminal turned his attention from the door to his underling.

"... How did you...?"

"Hmm."

* * *

Today was not a normal day. If he didn't know any better, Perry would've thought that the bloodied body in Torchwick's office was-

"P-Perry...? Is that y-you?" It was Roman. His voice was barely audible, a quiet whisper against the floor. The crime lord had trouble breathing, and his body twitched as he struggled to raise his head. The man's face was pale, and Perry noticed a large gash that ran across Torchwick's cheek, blood oozing from the wound. "H-ha... Nice t-to see you show up on ti-kkaakt-" The rest of his words were lost as he broke into a dry heave, wasting what precious air he had. Blood splattered violently against the floor, adding more crimson to the cold stone.

As Roman struggled to get up again, Perry examined the crime boss's condition. The cut on his face was far from the worst; Torchwick's suit had holes burnt into it, exposing his side, blackened charcoal where skin was supposed to be. One arm seemed completely useless, shaking uncontrollably as Roman tried to rest his body against it. His other hand gripped Melodic Cudgel, struggling as he tried to use it as a cane. "C-c'mon pal. Wanna h-Kkakt- help me up at least?" The criminal's eyes were unfocused as he tried to appeal to Perry, desperation showing on his face.

"...Hmm."

And Perry was Perry. Roman collapsed again, his Melodic Cudgel rolling across the room, out of reach. "Ha ha hkkt..." A sarcastic laugh was all he could spare, not wanting to waste too much of his precious oxygen, even as his lungs seemed to empty. The man's body twitched as he struggled to roll himself onto his back, flopping against the blood-stained floor, eyes gazing up to the ceiling. "Should've ex-expected it..." Roman's voice was unsteady, carefully choosing his words, as he looked past his faunus associate. "Even when we're -Kaaahkk-riminals... Humans and animals can't get along, huh?"

The faunus was silent, pushing his glasses up to his mask, standing over Roman. As usual, his face remained expressionless, and Roman couldn't even tell if Perry was paying attention to him anymore.

"H-hey..." The strength behind Roman's voice was slowly fading now. "C'mon Perry... At least..." What little colour his face had slowly drained away, growing paler with each passing second. His tone changed from sarcastic to almost apologetic, his eyes pleading to the ceiling. "... At least say something."

There was a pregnant pause, and for once, Roman could see the faunus hesitate. His mouth opened, then closed. It opened again, seemingly about say something, before closing once more.

And then Perry kicked Roman's face.

The illusion shattered like glass, the bloodied floor breaking away to reveal pristine tiles. Roman immediately hopped to his feet, look as every bit an asshole as he did yesterday, quickly brushing off his pristine suit as he glared at Perry.

"Whoa! Hey! Ow! Watch it!"

"...Hmm."

"...I should've never introduced you to Neo. Doesn't anything bother you?"


End file.
